Drunk Dial
by Fan-Fables
Summary: "I should have sobered up first. I knew this even while I scrolled bleary eyed through the 'emergency' contacts on my cellphone." Rachel dials the wrong number only to find herself on the end of a very awkward phonecall.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer : **Glee, the television musical comedy-drama, belongs to the production companies 20th Century Fox Television, Brad Falchuck Teley-Vision and Ryan Murphy Productions. I do not own any of the characters depicted in this story.

**Authors Note : **_This story was inspired by the following prompt; '_**_You've dialled the wrong phone number, but the person who answers sounds familiar. This person recognizes you, but because you made the call you're too embarrassed to ask who it is._**_'_

_This story takes place around six months after Glee Episode 4 Season 4 'The Break-Up' (the one where Rachel and Finn breakup). So in this story you can expect possible Glee spoilers for any episode up to, and including, that one._

* * *

**Chapter 1**

I should have sobered up first. I knew this even while I scrolled bleary eyed through the 'emergency' contacts on my cellphone.

Regardless, any drunken doubts I may have had, were soon dispelled the moment a disembodied voice echoed through the phones earpiece. "Hello?". The rich alto tone of her voice brought a smile to my face.

I recognised that voice anywhere. "Hey yoooou", my voice singsonged as I drew out my greeting with a languish drawl. "So tell me," my voice dipped into a flirtatious timbre. "What are you wearing?" I asked with a giggle.

"Rachel? Is that you?" She seemed baffled by my question, but I ignored her response, collapsing back on my bed with an exaggerated sigh as I gazed up at my bedroom ceiling.

"The one and only". I let my head flop to the side, squinting at the 3:17am neon green display of my alarm clock. "And I bet you," I slurred, jutting a finger into thin air, pointing at nothing but the dusk of night, "must be wearing something very naugh-hic, naughty right now".

"Are you drunk?" I started to get a little frustrated with all these questions. She was ruining my buzz. Karen had been clear about encouraging me to call her any time I got the itch. Having just stumbled back into the loft, returning from yet another NYADA dorm party, it took but a few yells of 'hello' for me to realise Kurt was out. Which meant Karen was in. And by in, I mean in me.

"Come on girl" I sighed, horny impatience creeping into my voice "stop stalling", I said as I fell back into my earlier flirty tone. Karen wasn't the only pretty blonde on my booty call list, but she was one of the better performers in bed. "This isn't the first time I've called. And you said any time. Well, this is any time".

"Did I?" she replied and even through my drunken haze, she sounded genuinely confused. A quiet chatter rose up from the background, coming through the phone, as I tried to figure out where Karen could be. "Rachel give me one minute. My room-mate is trying to subtly tell me she needs her beauty sleep". I heard her laugh as a muffled voice rose in the background. "Let me get to the dorm lounge and I'll call you straight back".

I shrugged, even though she couldn't see it, and replied with a curt 'sure'. Phone sex wasn't what I'd dialled for, but it would do for now. Without even so much as a goodbye I cut the call, dropping the phone on the bed as I lay inert.

I closed my eyes and tried to focus on slowing down the twirling of the room. Just as I'd began to get a handle on the spinning, my cell phone rang. Eye's still closed, I hunted around on the soft bed for the phone, before I blindly pushed 'call accept'.

"Hey Rachel. I'm back". I felt a spark of pleasure rush through me, arousal warming my centre at the sound of her voice. I knew she would call back.

I'd sobered up a little now. I sighed as I trailed my fingertips all the way down the thin fabric of my sheer blouse until I reached the hem. "Hey there sexy". I'd earlier stripped down to my blouse and little else, my hand gaining easy access to my core, sliding in under the waistband of my underwear. "Tell me what you're wearing".

I began a slow circling massage, lazily drawing out the sensation as I closed my eyes and imagined Karen's blonde hair and light coloured eyes. "Really?" she laughed over the phone, but indulged me none the less. "Well, flip-flops and Nike running shorts."

"Mmmmm", I moaned my breathing unsteady as my fingers teased my core, "you've got fantastic legs".

"Thanks? I guess?". The bashful role Karen had decided to play, was such a turn on. I had no idea she could act shy. She much preferred playing a dominant role in bed.

"And what else?" I urged her to continue, as I listened to her fall quiet on the other end of the line.

"A Yale sweatshirt?" she answered, her tone curious.

"Yes, I bet you fill it out nicely... wait". My fingers stilled, eyes widening as I bolted up straight. "A Yale sweatshirt." I repeated, more a statement than a question. Karen went to NYADA like me. What the hell was she doing in Yale?

"Uh huh", the voice said, drawing out the syllables as though this new piece of information should have been obvious to me. "They gave them out our first week here. Rachel is everything al-right? Have you been drinking? Because it kind of sounds like... well..." she drifted off, but she didn't need to finish the sentence.

I cringed, physically folding in on myself with shame. All I'd wanted was to call one of my _friends-with-benefits_ and grab myself a little quick release. My booty calls all looked the same. Blonde, tall, confident, and all with those all important light coloured eyes. Kurt had long since pointed out that the parade of women, (I'd brought back to our shared loft), appeared suspiciously like her.

"Quinn?" I whispered, internally pleading with every deity I'd ever heard of, praying my question would be met with confused denial. I was hoping against hope I hadn't just drunk dialled, (and tried to initiate phone sex with), my best friend and long-distance secret crush.

"Yes its Quinn." Her voice sounded annoyed and I slapped a hand across my forehead, my prayers unanswered. "Who else would it be?"

**T.B.C**


	2. Chapter 2

**Authors Note : _Thank you for all the follows/faves/reviews. :) The response to this story has been fantastic! I'd originally meant to write a quick short piece based around the story prompt. However as so many of you have asked for a continuation, I've had a bit of a creative ponder, and I now have a few (loosely plotted) ideas for the rest of this story. Enjoy!_**

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**Chapter 2**

"_Quinn?" I whispered, internally pleading with every deity I'd ever heard of, praying my question would be met with confused denial. I was hoping against hope I hadn't just drunk dialled, (and tried to initiate phone sex with), my best friend and long-distance secret crush._

"_Yes its Quinn." Her voice sounded annoyed and I slapped a hand across my forehead, my prayers unanswered. "Who else would it be?"_

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"Quinn!" I repeated, rolling over to reach out and switch on the lamp on my bedside table, but I spun myself around so fast I fell out of bed, landing on the floor with a thud.

I let out a soft 'oof' as I hit the ground. "Yes, its Quinn.". She spoke slowly, her tone filled with amusement, as I stretched up from the floor and switched on the lamp shade. "Rachel? What's happening? There was a bang". I listened to the worry in her voice while I collected myself up from the ground, standing to stretch out a sore muscle in my leg.

"I'm fine," I dropped the phone down to double-check the caller ID on the screen, wincing as it read 'Quinn Fabray'. Bringing my cellphone back up to my ear I searched around my room for an excuse, seeking out a justification for my call. I spoke hurriedly, not stopping to pause and think. "I meant to call someone else". I grimaced as I closed my eyes, irritated with my answer. Why did I decide to go with the truth? I've always been a bad liar when under pressure.

"Okay", Quinn laughed, taking delight in my fluster. "Who were you trying to call at...", Quinn paused and I could imagine her checking the time on her cellphone before bringing it back to her ear. "At 3:30am in the morning on a weekday?" I could hear her smile, playful humour in her voice. "Because from what I could hear, you seemed **very** interested in what they were wearing."

I stomped my foot in frustration, a habit I was still trying to grow out of. "Quinn I have no idea about what you are implying", I began, collecting myself and what little dignity I had left in this conversation. "I was calling someone and I happened to misdial".

"Of course." Quinn replied and I sat down on my bed in a huff. "That must have been one big ol' misdial, because we were talking for a while and you still didn't know it was me. You thought I was...?" she let her words drift off and I absent-mindedly filled in the blank.

"Karen," I said, before clamping a hand across my mouth, surprised at my candour. I couldn't believe I'd that out loud. And to Quinn of all people.

"Karen?" Quinn's sounded as surprised as I felt. "Who is Karen? Are you seeing her?"

"No". I said a little too quickly, shaking my head as I refined my answer. "She's just a friend". I rolled my eyes at that, casting my gaze to the ceiling in frustration. Everyone knows you don't start a 3am phone call to just-a-friend with the words 'what are you wearing'.

"We're not friends like you and I are friends." For a moment I mourned that fact. Karen's a poor imitation of Quinn, but she's one among many who would have to do. I sighed. "She's no-one really".

Quinn knew I dated around ever since I split up from Finn a few months ago. Yet I'd always implied that those relationships went no further than chaste high school-esque kisses. I doubted Quinn knew just how sexually active I'd become, (I kept those particular details out of our regular 'catch-up' phone-calls), but her silence over the phone seemed to imply otherwise.

"Rachel. You know I don't judge you?" Quinn asked affectionately, after a few muted moments, and I breathed a relieved sigh at her question.

I knew Quinn wouldn't look down on me for doing what comes naturally. We'd both long since discussed and agreed that girls want sex just as much as guys do. However I couldn't be sure Quinn wouldn't judge me for my attraction to her in particular. "I know", I replied.

"Anyhow," Quinn's tone brightened. "I'll get all the details out of you in a couple of days when I come by to visit. Try to stay sober and not drunk dial me until then".

"I most certainly did not drunk dial you!" I said sitting up straight, feeling offended by her insinuation. It was true of course, but I felt I had to defend my honour. "I simply appeared inebriated due to my overwhelming drowsiness", I continued babbling over Quinn's relentless chuckles.

All of a sudden the loft reverberated with the slamming of the front door. "Kurt's Back Baby!" Kurt yelled out into our shared spacious apartment, as he breezed into the living space.

"I guess all that hollering is Kurt arriving home?", Quinn asked through her subsiding chuckles, and I smiled enjoying the sound of her voice. "I'm going to go back to bed but you tell him I said _hi_".

"I will", I replied, thankful that she seemed willing to let the drunken phone call subject go. "Sleep well. And I'm sorry I woke you up."

"You don't ever need to apologise for calling me." Quinn responded fondly. "I'll see you Friday. Bye Rach."

"Bye Quinn". I listened as the phone call disconnected, waiting for a few seconds before uttering "love you".

As soon as I hung up the phone I sighed as I listened to Kurt crashing about in the kitchen. He often returned home from a long day at work, feeling ravenous. This was because, in his own words, 'no-one eats at work. If you're seen with even so much as a salad, they book you into Overeater's Anonymous'. I'd often find myself woken up by the whirring of the mixer in the early hours, as Kurt made himself a smoothie.

"Kurt!" I bounced off my bed, grabbing a nightgown from my dresser chair and made my way towards the kitchen. "Hi", I greeted, grinning as I found Kurt slumped over the kitchen counter as he dozed away. "Come on," I admonished, slinging an arm around him as I helped him to his feet. "These late nights are going to positively ruin your skin".

"I know", Kurt said sounding mournful, as I pulled him upright. "I knew it would be hard work and long hours but I never knew that it would..." he paused, taking two short sniffs before leaning away from me. "Have you been drinking?", he cast me a peculiar look, "because you smell like someone was gargling whisky then threw up on you".

I groaned. "Earlier yes, I'd been drinking, but it was just a few drinks." I shrugged off his question, nudging him towards his room, "but now you need to get to bed. Make yourself a fruit smoothie tomorrow."

"O M G", Kurt gasped. "Do you have another girl in there?" Kurt stage whispered as he pointed a finger indicating my room. "Is that why you want me to keep quiet?"

"No." I replied offended, as I began to put away the kitchen utensils Kurt had scattered across the counter in preparation to make his fruit smoothie. Why on earth did he need a garlic crusher? "Not for lack of trying though," I mumbled under my breath.

"Lack of trying?" Kurt leaned against the counter, cupping his face in the palms of his hands, as he watched me wipe down the surface. "Did your entire harem of women turn you down?" he laughed when I threw the napkin I was using, at him, deftly dodging out-of-the-way.

"I do not have a harem of women," I said rolling my eyes as I took a seat at the breakfast counter. "I simply have a few specific, mutually beneficial, yet sexually active friendships". At the word 'friendships', my thoughts drew back to the earlier phone call I'd made to Quinn. She seemed to take my imprudent attempt at phone sex as no big deal. But just what did she mean when she said she wouldn't judge me?

"Just before you arrived, I tried to have phone sex with Quinn." I spoke so quietly Kurt had to lean in to hear me, but going by the shocked look on his face, he caught every word. "She says 'hi' by the way".

Kurt stood upright, mute while his mouth opened and closed a couple of times as he attempted to process what I'd said. Finally, he took a seat opposite me, carefully sitting down as he pinned me with unbelieving eyes. "Tried to?"

I slouched forward with a weary exhale, my arms spread-eagled as I rested my forehead on the cool counter-top. "I didn't know it was her".

Kurt scoffed at that. "How could you not know?"

"Well I'd been drinking when I started to scroll through my phone", I began but I was rudely interrupted.

"Ah hah!" Kurt exclaimed, "So you were drunk!"

I glanced up to find Kurt pointing an accusing finger at me. "For god's sake Kurt", I exasperated. "Can we please stay focused on the matter at hand?" I folded my arms in front of me. "I think Quinn knows".

"I should think so Rach". Kurt leaned forward, lightly grasping my hands as he gave me a concerned look. "She was on the other end of your sex call. So I think that..."

"It never got that far", I cut in. "At least not on her end..."

Kurt sat back abruptly, letting go of my hands as though they'd burned him. "Please tell me..." he began aghast, keeping the hands that he'd just been holding mine with, away from himself. "... that you washed your hands afterwards".

"First of all, yes my hands are clean." I lied, and felt myself begin to blush with the knowledge that my hands were still coated by my own juices. I quashed down the impulse to give my fingertips a smell test. No way was I going to give Kurt that kind of come-back ammunition. "And second, I thought she was Karen".

"Who is Karen?" Kurt asked. "Wait, is she that girl with a weird thing for leather?"

"She doesn't have a weird thing for leather", I retorted. "Anyway that's beside the point". I shrugged off Kurt's tangent question. "As soon as I realised it was Quinn on the phone I stopped". My eyebrows drew together as I rolled over the phone-call conversation in my mind. "She laughed it off, said it was no big deal, but from the way she said spoke it seemed like she already kinda knew I slept with women".

"Would it really be all that bad if she knew?" Kurt asked his expression confused. "You have two gay fathers, a fabulously fashionable gay friend". I laughed as Kurt used his hands to frame his face in a 'Vogue' fashion shoot pose. "I think she'd be fine with your being attracted to women. Besides, why wouldn't you want her to know? You two tell each other everything?"

I dipped my head, unable to meet his eyes."Because if she knows I like women, she might think I like her". My words were barely audible, spoken under my breath.

"But you do like her; as in want to do her. Don't you?" Kurt asked.

I looked up, eyes wide as I glanced around the loft for possible eavesdroppers. "I told you that in confidence," I whispered appalled that he could utter those words out loud where anyone could be listening.

Kurt rolled his eyes, throwing his hands into the air with a huff. "Rachel there's no one else here. Your secret is still in confidence".

"Regardless" I groused, feeling a little foolish at my outburst of anxiety. "I can't risk losing Quinn's friendship, even if I would like it to develop into something more".

Kurt nodded, his expression sage."Well maybe you should tell your subconscious that".

I tilted my head in curiosity. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that maybe you made that phone call on purpose". Kurt planted both hands down on the counter, tiredly heaving himself out of his seat. "Somewhere in the recesses of your uninhibited drunken mind, you really wanted to tell Quinn the truth".

I scoffed at his psychoanalysis. "I'm pretty sure I just wanted to get laid".

"By Quinn" Kurt countered, waving away the beginnings of my sceptical response as he continued. "Don't give me that look Rachel. You think no-one else besides me has noticed all your hookups are pretty blondes?". Kurt gave me a cheeky smile. "Talk about having a type".

My reply was sharp, even to my own ears. "I do not have a type!"

"Yes you do. You are a quintessential Quinnusexual." Kurt chuckled at his annoying turn of phrase. "Besides, you two can talk all about it when she comes round on Friday".

"That's pretty much what she said". At Kurt's raised brow I grimaced as I began to explain. "Quinn said that she wants to talk about the phone-call, when she comes round this weekend".

Kurt didn't even try to disguise his smirk. "Well I'm definitely making sure I get a front row seat to **that** lesbian drama". Kurt said as he spun around and sauntered off towards his bedroom.

**T.B.C**


End file.
